Beer and Blood
by Shadow Silver Fang
Summary: Jason hates feeling guilty, so he goes to get beer and gets something else too. Takes place during episode 9, "Plaisir D'Amour". Possible Pre-Slash. Rated for language.


Jason hadn't been experimenting with harvesting V for very long, but he couldn't help feeling that he and Amy were doing it wrong. He stood in front of the beer case, staring in, unable to decide which to get. He had never had this problem before, this guilty feeling that nagged at the back of his mind and made beer the last thing he wanted. He figured it was the vampires fault. Looking pathetic and weak tied down to that chair.

Really it was Amy's fault. She had burst in, metaphorical guns blazing and nabbed the vampire out of his front room. She was the one who had thrown Jason into the scenario that inspired his guilt. The high had been amazing, though. The blood, fresh from the vampire's veins, had brought him somewhere he never thought he'd be able to go. But it hadn't been a gift, and that was what she was constantly going on about. Thanking the vampire for it's glorious _gift_.

It had been taken violently, and Jason didn't like violence. Not undeserved violence. If someone messed with him, gave him a reason to throw a punch, that was different. That vampire hadn't done anything to them, hadn't even known they existed, and they had invaded his home and kidnapped him.

And Jason felt guilty.

And that pissed him off.

He left the gas station without buying anything and drove in circles for hours listening to the news. He switched through the stations, but no matter which one he paused on one word came up within a few seconds: Vampire. It seemed that every station was talking about vampires, the whole _damned _world was talking about vampires. Everyone was talking about them, and he had one locked away in his basement; one that was in pain, and was better than any counselor that had been forced on him.

He pulled into the parking lot of small grocery store and went in. He stood in front of the beer case for fifteen minutes, battling with his conscience. He couldn't let the vampire go, but he didn't have to torture him either. He picked up a twelve pack of the same beer he always ended up getting and then moved down to the next case to pull a pack of True Blood out. He wasn't sure which kind the captive vampire liked, but he was getting "O". The man who checked him out at the front of the store fixed him with a long look while he scanned the vampire food, but whatever conclusion he came to he kept to himself.

"Forty-two fifty," he said.

"Fuck, how much is that true blood shit?" Jason asked, dishing out the cash without pausing.

"Pretty expensive," the cashier said, smiling a little, nervously. "Bet the price'll make you reconsider giving up the real thing, if the taste doesn't, huh?"

Jason looked at him blankly for a second, not comprehending the coy smile or the flirtatious twist to the hips as the cashier stuffed the money into the till and counted out the change. Understanding dawned suddenly, and he struggled not to look too sick. The kid was a fang banger and thought that he, Jason Stackhouse, was a vampire.

"Shit!" he cursed, snatching up the bag of booze and blood and turning to leave. "Ain't for me, it's for someone else."

He saw the kid suddenly look embarrassed, but he didn't stick around to listen to his mumbled apologies. Instead he hurried out to his truck, tossed the bag onto the passenger seat and slid into the drivers side. The second he turned the key in the ignition the radio blared to life. Still talking about vampires, and it felt like every word was directed straight at him in regards to his captive.

"Fucking pathetic vampire," he said as he punched the radio off.

He threw the car into gear and sped out of the parking lot, running yellows, and a couple of reds, on his way home.

He hadn't expected that the vampire would be so weak by the time he got back. So unresponsive, almost human. He didn't know that vampires could be so human. He stuffed the straw into the imitation blood and hurried to offer it up. The instructions said it should be heated to 98.6 degrees, but he didn't think he had the time.

"You got me true blood…?" the voice was weak, disbelieving, _grateful._

Jason never expected that gratitude from a vampire could make him feel so good.

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**_I appreciate feedback! Please drop a review. If you see an error somewhere, and it is highly likely that there is one, then please drop me a line. If you really liked it, please let me know. I am thinking about turning it into a series of short fics revolving around Jason. _**


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